


Cutthroats and Soft Hearts

by powderedoughnuts



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:08:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3382670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/powderedoughnuts/pseuds/powderedoughnuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One word prompt drabbles for Wranduin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: n/a

Wrathion didn’t care much for snow.

It was wet and _cold_ and pointless. 

He could think of much better things to be doing than strolling around a winterized Stormwind, but Anduin had been persistent, wanting to take in the first snowfall of the year. And so, begrudgingly, he complied. 

What Wrathion didn’t expect was the pink that blossomed in Anduin’s cheeks and the tip of his nose. The way snowflakes settled in his golden hair and long eyelashes. How he huddled closer to Wrathion for warmth in the bitter cold, his breath dancing on the dragon’s skin. When his kisses were warmer than the sun, burning his lips, his neck, his fingertips… 

No, Wrathion didn’t care much for snow at all.


	2. Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: blood, gore, mentions of death

_‘This shouldn’t have happened..’_

The field was stained with dark blood, bodies and limbs strewn about; the smell of death cloying.

Anduin was focused on the one body in front of him, hands slipping in warm blood as he frantically applied pressure to the open wound. The dragon’s breaths were growing shallow, his great chest heaving as he struggled and whined.

Tears slipped down Anduin’s cheeks as he prayed to the Light, asking for healing, strength, anything. It’s warmth flowed through his body, radiating from bloodied hands, but it wasn’t enough. The wound kept flowing, pooling on the hard earth. He continued chanting, lips moving almost in silence, the words coming rapidly. Every heartbeat seemed to echo in the silence, pulsed against his palms. The rhythm was slowing, and dread kept building in Anduin’s own chest with every passing minute.

He couldn’t lose him. He _couldn’t_.


End file.
